


Big Zam

by dovingbird



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Big Zam, Egobang - Freeform, M/M, handjob, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 10:04:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1465342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dovingbird/pseuds/dovingbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arin isn't sure if Danny's big or zammy enough and decides to take matters into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Zam

"This game sucks."  
  
"It really does."  
  
"Like, seriously, it's so bad that I can't even think of funny shit to say about it. This is just..."  
  
Sad thing is, Arin's right. Normally they can pull stuff out of their ass to save a fucking terrible game, like with Dennis the Menace or Ninjabread Man, and hell, that shit more often than not becomes like fucking iconic, don't it, but this? It's just too terrible. Danny collapses into the couch with a long, loud groan and drops the controller, rubbing his face.  
  
"You wanna just stop?" Arin asks, pausing the game.  
  
"Really? Call the whole thing a wash?"  
  
He shrugs. "It's been eight minutes and literally nothing has happened. It's not like we've lost a whole lot of time, right?"  
  
See, what's funny is that he never used to suggest shit like this. He was always the one that would drill Danny about them having to get content no matter if they had to play a game for like thirty fucking minutes to do it - looking at YOU, Endless Ocean. But lately something's changed.  
  
He wonders if it has to do with them sucking each other off recently.  
  
Look, if there's anything that his roommates taught him in New York, when there were eleventy billion of them stuffed in a single apartment, it's that gay shit happens sometimes. It just does. You're all cramped up in this tiny space and there's six people to a bedroom and eight more just chilling in the living room on cots, and then there's a joint getting passed around, and there's boners that you forget to hide, and somebody accidentally touches it and your moan's a little less than an accident and then there's jizz just literally everywhere all over the fucking floor and ceiling and whatever else. And you pretend it isn't going to happen again, and then the joint comes out the next day and an hour later you're getting fucked in the ass, hey, whatever.  
  
Didn't take a joint or booze to make that happen with Arin. Just took a mad crazy sugar high one night that led to sissy-slapping that led to full-out-wrestling that led to almost frantic grinding that led to jizz. The only difference being that while Danny and the other guys never talked about the shit that went down in New York, Arin immediately informed him of just how hot it'd been and how good it felt and how they probably needed to do it again whenever they felt so inclined.  
  
And, really, who is Danny to turn down free and friendly handjobs and blowjobs and whatever else between friends when he's feeling frisky?  
  
So when Arin's so fast to suggest they scrap the footage Danny stares at him for a few seconds before slowly starting to grin. "You have something else in mind?"  
  
"I mean..." Arin shrugs, tries to look unconcerned, but his eyelids are drooping and there's a hint of a smirk on his lips and he's literally never looked so transparent in all the time that Danny's known him. "...I'm sure we can come up with something."  
  
"Like another game to play?" Danny pats the stack on the coffee table in front of them.  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"Or we could always revisit old favorites just to get warmed up again."  
  
Arin shrugs, flicks his eyes up and down Danny's body, and that's good, because he should, because after all that moving furniture and stuff to get everything situated in his apartment with Barry Danny thinks he might actually have one or two muscles now instead of being flat as a pancake. "I mean-"  
  
"Like say..." He surreptitiously slides his hand down his stomach. "...for instance..." Right under the waistband of his shorts and boxers. "...Big Zam." And pulls his dick out immediately.  
  
The reaction's immediate, Arin actually bending in half to laugh hysterically just like Dan wanted him to, and it's addicting just like it always is, makes Danny start laughing too even as he coyly pumps his hand over his shaft to tease it up from the chub that just Grumping with Arin will get it to these days.  
  
"What the fuck?!" Arin cries, cheeks already flushed as he looks through his hair at Danny. His face is just about split across the middle with how wide he's smiling and Danny loves it, loves every time that he can make Arin so fucking happy.  
  
"I dunno, I'm just saying, y'know, if we're gonna revisit old favorites and stuff, we might as well go with Big Zam!"  
  
Arin barks out another high-pitched laugh or two before he rubs his eyes, wipes away the beginning of actual tears, and just barely catches his breath in time to signal a mood change. Danny feels it immediately, senses the blow of the breeze from airy and light to a little more humid and intense as Arin smirks at him and leans over. "I dunno, though," Arin teases, just barely avoiding a giggle. "I don't know if it's...big-" Danny chokes back a gasp when Arin grabs his cock and makes his hand fall away. "-or zammy enough."  
  
And it's weird that already Arin so knows what he likes, can instinctively take his favorite pace, remembers to squeeze almost hard enough to bruise at the top and swirl his palm around the head and whatever else, and all Danny can do is dig his fingers into the couch cushions and breathe out a soft "Shit."  
  
"See?" Arin murmurs, cocking his head to the side, that smirk turning a touch wicked. "See how much better that is?"  
  
"Fuck yeah..."  
  
They don't kiss, of course - that'd just be maybe a little _too_ emotional and gay instead of this easy fun exchange of sexual favors - but there are moments like right now where Danny will stare into Arin's face, will read precisely how much he likes doing this shit to Danny, how much he _actually might love the shit out of him,_ and it's enough to send spikes of electricity shooting through him with every movement of Arin's hand. Enough to make him almost _want_ to know what those self-satisfied smirking lips taste like.  
  
And then Arin'll do something like slide his other hand forward to tug his waistband down a bit more and play with his balls, and Danny forgets that urge all over again, throws his head back and revels in the sweet burn. Drowns for minutes he doesn't even realize are passing, punctuated only by a groan or a curse when his body kicks into the next gear.  
  
"C'mon, then," Arin whispers and breaks that line of endless time, right when Danny's started to buck his hips, when his face is all flushed and a few beads of sweat are dripping down his temples. "You gonna show me your Big Zam beam?"  
  
And it's so ridiculous and obnoxious that Danny laughs again, tinged with breathy moans and a desperate desire to cling to the stirring right there, right in his balls, where everything's tingling and escalating. "Oh my God, really?!"  
  
"You gonna do that for me?"  
  
"My creamy beam?" Dan teases through gritted grinning teeth.  
  
"Yeah, that's what I want, c'mon." And he lifts the pace all the more with his own quiet chuckle. "Give me what I want, Dan."  
  
And, really, who is Danny to deny him?  
  
He comes, of course, and if he happens to shoot that jizz all the fuck over Arin's face while shouting "Taste my creamy beam!" then he really can't be arsed to feel bad about it at all because the son of a bitch literally asked for it.  
  
"SERIOUSLY?!"  
  
"Dude, you fucking asked for it!"  
  
"OH MY GOD THERE IS SO FUCKING MUCH."  
  
And it's Danny's turn to laugh hysterically even as he grabs the nearby box of tissues and pulls out about seven, throwing them all at Arin's face. "Here."  
  
"SON OF A BITCH."  
  
It's seriously some of the funniest shit that Danny's ever seen, and all that laughing just makes the tingles of his orgasm draw out all the more, makes them taste all the sweeter. He drops limply to the floor for a moment before sighing and crawling to spread Arin's legs. "Okay, man, look, I'm sorry, what if I make it up to you?" he asks teasingly as he goes for Arin's zipper.  
  
So, of course, Arin immediately stops his hooting and hollering and settles back into the couch with a huff and a soft chuckle and a "You'd fucking better."


End file.
